


Angelus

by sunshinestealer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinestealer/pseuds/sunshinestealer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Xavier Institute has a small chapel on the grounds, somewhere for a bit of spiritual peace and solitude.</p><p>Here, Kurt and Warren find each other.</p><p>(Post Apocalypse, and also that he was given refuge at the Xavier Institute following the final battle.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angelus

It was common knowledge at the Xavier Institute, that if you needed to find Kurt Wagner, then you only needed to look in two places. The library, or the chapel.

Kurt had delighted in the huge supply of books available, informally taking them off the shelves and always returning them in perfect order. Even while at the circus, he confessed, he went through over fifty books a year, on a wide variety of subjects. Spending two years in England touring with the Munich Circus had certainly helped him attain fluency in English, but it was books - collected for him from market stalls and library sales while travelling - that had perfected his grasp of the language. Biographies of saints, poets, detailed histories of churches and spiritual sites, and swashbuckler novels from the early 20th century all counted among his favourite subjects. And there was that fledgling interest in architecture too.

The chapel was on the grounds of the mansion, and tucked away into a wooded area for an extra bit of spiritual privacy. Kurt found it rather quaint, much like some of the very small village churches back in Bavaria. It resembled more of a meeting room than a classical church with iconography and stained glass windows, but it was the peace it afforded that mattered. All churches were visited by the same God, after all.

Charles personally didn't expect many of his students to use the chapel, too many of them eager to get away from some of the religious backgrounds that had justified their parents' fear and hatred of mutants.

Yet the majority of those students could pass as human, and walk into a church with no issue. Kurt, with his blue skin, fangs, glowing eyes and forked tail (as well as the Enochian markings) had had to develop his faith sitting up in the rafters of Catholic churches in Germany, only rarely daring to sit amongst the congregation. (He could recall one parishioner trying to bat him away from God's presence with a candle stand. Hilarious in hindsight, but terrifying at the time.)

Kurt would come here every Sunday, every Friday afternoon and every major holiday or Saint's feast. He lit the candles and the incense, he sat for hours praying and even offered to start a Bible study group with mutants who still wanted to believe, but had had the aforementioned bad experiences with religion.

The chapel wasn't solely used by Kurt, however. He'd sometimes come in while other students were looking for some peace and quiet, and sometimes have to move along some of the rowdier students who were eager to claim it as their latest ironic hangout spot.

This evening, Kurt nudged open the door and found somebody he didn't particularly expect to be here.

Archangel.

Despite the holy-sounding codename, Warren didn't seem particularly religious. He was the classical optimist who had been tossed into the throes of pessimism after bad experiences in recent years. The pain as his wings had broken through the skin, the sheer mechanical pressure on his spine, and the first few failed attempts at flight had paled in comparison to the pain of ostracisation from his family. No wonder he'd left the family home in Belgravia and the unconditional offer to Cambridge University. Not knowing what to do with his life, he had wandered into continental Europe and been picked up by the gangs who made their money putting mutants in cage matches against each other. Even though he was paid pittance, every little bit helped when it came to his nascent drinking habit.

He was posed on his knees in a pew, just quietly contemplating, metallic wings folded behind him. The image was almost serene.

Kurt had known from a young age that his appearance scared people -- especially if he surprised them. He knew that the visceral reactions that played on the person's face, didn't mean that they hated him. But it still hurt to see it happen. It was one of the many things his anxiety tormented him with.

He quietly went about his duties, tidying the chapel and teleporting to the rafters to start praying with his rosary. Whilst hanging down by the tail. (In fact, it was rather comforting to him to linger upside down for hours on end. Perhaps a side effect of being raised in the circus.)

Angel didn't even notice his presence, but Kurt could hear a frustration with him. Every so often, he would sigh and tut to himself. This was the person who wanted to pray, but found themselves unable to perform the particular ritual. Maybe Warren needed a lesson in that regard. 

He would have been happy to give Archangel that particular lesson, but the mutant had gotten up from the pew and was storming out of the chapel.

"Wait!" Kurt called before he could stop himself.

Archangel froze where he stood. Then his nose wrinkled at the scent of brimstone as Kurt teleported in front of him.

Warren was a vision, an almost supernaturally beautiful face with an effortless allure in every bat of his eyelashes and curl of his lips. The tattoos from Apocalypse had only served to accentuate his features.

Kurt could talk the hind leg off a donkey once he got started, but right now he couldn't think of what to say. Except for: "I'm sorry I... scared you."

"Takes a lot to scare me," Warren replied.

 


End file.
